


For Tonight

by lrose20



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Again more slashy if you have goggles than without, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Martin Crieff Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrose20/pseuds/lrose20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas puts aside his sarcasm and pride for one night to comfort Martin, who's hurt himself after a delivery job</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Tonight

Douglas turned in his sleep, sighing heavily, only to hit something hard and stiff on the other side of him. He groggily opened his eyes, groaning unconsciously. He blinked hard a couple of times, until his brain caught up with his body, and Douglas realized that the body next to him was sniffing slightly. Douglas pulled himself up to rest his weight on his shoulder, blearily staring over at Martin. His captain was curled up on his side, facing away from Douglas. His shoulders were tensed and shaking and Douglas again heard that tell tale sniffing sound.  
“Martin,” he said, a bit louder than he’d meant to, and Martin started. “Are you...crying?” Douglas asked, rather incredulously.

“N-no,” Martin protested weakly, his voice scratchy and muffled. 

“You are!” Douglas proclaimed, although his voice lacked its usual delight at Martin’s suffering. Well, at three in the morning, even Douglas was not going to mock someone for crying. 

“So what if I am? Is it keeping the great sky god from sleeping?” Martin retorted.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Martin. Why on Earth are you crying?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just go back to sleep...please,” he added, in a pathetically quiet voice. 

Douglas brow furrowed, incredulity actually giving away to real concern.  
“Martin...” He hesitated for a moment and then reached a hand out, resting it on Martin’s shoulder blade, only to blink in surprise. “Good lord, you’re tense, Martin.” He pressed his finger tips down ever so slightly and Martin jerked away, a sob threatening to escape his lips.

“It was the stupid sodding couch I moved yesterday,” Martin said, his entire upper body trembling. “It was too heavy for me to be lifting, but I can’t afford a ramp or anything like that, and I had to take the job...But I think I strained something, and everything hurts, and I can’t sleep and-”

“Martin, Martin.” Douglas repeated, cutting off Martin’s slightly hysterical explanation. Martin took a deep breath, in what must have been an attempt to calm himself. “Can you roll over? On to your stomach?”

Martin blinked a bit like a deer, slow and uncomprehending.  
“Douglas, what on Earth-”

“Among my numerous and impressive talents, I happen to be quite handy at giving massages. I am proposing to give you one, if the Captain accepts.”

“You...you would give me a massage?”

“Yes, I believe that is what I just said.”

“Why?”

“Must I always have a reason for offering a favor?” Douglas said in a slightly fake melancholy voice.

“Yes,” came the immediate reply. 

Douglas huffed, rolling his eyes. “Because I feel like it. Wouldn’t want you moaning and groaning the whole way back tomorrow. I can only take so much whining, you understand.”  
Martin stared at him for a moment, looking suspicious. But the pain must have been stronger than his doubts, because he turned over onto his stomach. Douglas raised himself up onto his knees and then put one of Martin’s legs so that he had a leg on either side of Martin’s calves in order to have a better angle. He carefully placed his hands on Martin’s back, oddly troubled by the way Martin flinched. “This is going to hurt, but it will help,” Douglas told him in little more than a murmur, but he saw Martin nod in permission. Douglas rubbed his finger tips into the tense shoulder blades and Martin gasped sharply. Douglas hushed him, kneading into the knots in Martin’s muscles. Martin twitched and flinched against the mattress, but he didn’t demand Douglas to stop, and so the first officer continued. He made his way down Martin’s back, soothing and kneading out all the tense muscles. 

By the time he had reached Martin’s tailbone, a good hour had gone by, and Martin was barely coherent on the mattress. His face with stained with tears, but Douglas did not question them. For the first time since he’d met Martin, he actually had not the slightest hint of desire to mock him. For once, Martin was not his bossy, jumped up Captain, but a young man who clearly received very little physical contact, and was sacrificing everything in order to do what he loved. As Douglas watched Martin drift off into sleep with a very faint ‘thank you’, he reflected that tomorrow, everything would go back to normal. Martin would act stiff and superior, and Douglas would mock and tease. But for tonight, they were friends, and Douglas closed his own eyes, content with the simple thought of being Martin’s friend.


End file.
